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"The Coyote and the Two Stoners" or, "So MEEPin' Hot"

A "The Gift" Short

So, in the long list of unbelievable stories there are ones that make you sigh, ones that make you shake your head, ones that make you sit up and say "What?" and then, there are stories like the one you're about to hear. see-- this story isn't just about some not-likely event that took place on the middle of nowhere; this isn't a story that blows some everyday occurrence out of proportions more and more as the number of tellings increase; this is a story about a couple of everyday guys like you or me-- well... like you or me plus a couple of grams of weed a week. Yeah... it's a stoner story-- but not one of the kind you think it is.

This is a story about two stoners and a magic ritual. Yeah, you heard right: a magic ritual. Let's start with that, see: magic is a real thing. So are spirits too-- remember that because it's important to the story. Anyway, two guys in this story are Mike and Dave. They we were friends since 7th grade, graduated together, moved in together, flunked out of college together, and ended up working together at Cascade Central Fuel Source in phone sales. Don't worry about what Cascade Central does-- it's not really important (to the story, sure, but actually it really isn't all that important period).

It was a Sunday night and the guys'd ordered pizza for dinner. Pot's legal in Oregon in case you didn't know, so they started off dinner with a few hits and finished up dinner with a few more. They settled down to watch some TV and have a little more pizza and a little more pot. Their shift didn't start until 9am which meant they didn't have to go to bed right away so yeah, It was a work night but they were still being responsible partakers. Anyway, this whole unbelievable story begins with them watching an old cartoon about the coyote and the roadrunner--- you know the one, right?

So there they were, crashed out on the sofa, bongs in hand (joints, according to Mike were always pre-dinner). The TV station was running a marathon of coyote and road runner cartoons so it was one after another after another, which meant the two stoners were kept so engrossed in what they were watching that 9, 10, and 11 o clock came and went without them even noticing. It was about ten minutes until midnight when they finally took a minute to look around and realize what they were watching. When that happened the weed philosophy started, and it started with Dave. "Hey... Mike?"

"Yeah?"

Holding his breath from a recent hit, it took Dave a moment to finish his thought, which he did at the same time as a long exhale. "You ever wonder why that coyote is always chasing after that roadrunner?"

Mike was going over another philosophical dilemma, gaze going back and forth between his own bong and another slice of pizza. He shrugged. "I dunno... maybe he's just gay for the road runner."

Dave wasn't happy with such a half thought-out answer and he even set his bong down to make his point. "No, man... I mean, yeah... well... sure-- he's TOTALLY gay for the road runner, but what I want to know is WHY."

It was like the most profound question had suddenly been asked and, for the first time ever, Mike put aside his pizza-or-pot question and really focused on what Dave had to say. He was quiet for the longest time-- like... REALLY long... and, eventually, his answer came to him. "Maybe he's, like, REALLY gay for the road runner... like... he thinks he's sexy or something, yeah?"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Damn, Mike-- you think EVERY cartoon character is gay. First was that dragon-donkey-bird guy from that pony show--"

"Well duh-- he's a creature of pure chaos and normal would destroy him. Besides... haven't you heard him talk?"

Dave wasn't done. "And don't get me started on the Ninja Turtles..."

Neither was Mike. He finally settled on the bong and spoke while reaching for it. "Come ON-- four guy turtles and their 'dad' rat? You KNOW something's going on there."

"And now you're saying the coyote too?"

Mike flopped back on the sofa looking around at everything besides the TV, working on getting his overused lighter to work. "Damn... this place is a mess."

Dave reached for his own bong. "Yeah, it is-- but now you're just tryin' ta change the subject. I was gonna say that the coyote just wants to eat him."

Closing his eyes while taking a long draw off of his bong, Mike shook his head, waiting for a minute before letting out his breath. "Nah... definitely wants to do SOMETHING to him... but not eat."

Dave took a hit off of his own bong. "Heh... whatever. I bet you an ounce that he just wants to eat him."

Mike smirked. "And I bet he'd rather be inside the road runner, if you catch my drift."

"Deal."

"Deal."

The two of em sat there for half an episode before Mike asked "So... uh... how are we gonna find out which is the case?"

Another long pause later and, after looking around the room, Dave grabbed the top of the pizza box and picked up a black marker from where it was sitting on the floor. Whether it was from a moment of put-fueled inspiration or too much cartoon watching, he had a plan. "Hey-- let's contact 'the other plane' and ask the spirits."

Mike laughed. "Dude... that's crazy.... I'm game!"

The 'ritual' the selected was a combination of Hollywood BS and some hear-say from Mike's aunt, who claimed to be a new-age Wiccan. Dave used the black sharpie to draw a 'mystic symbol' on the pizza box. He nodded in satisfaction of his own work. "There. Looks good."

Mike wasn't so impressed. "What the heck is that?"

Dave held the lid of the box up. "It's a pentagram, dude. You said draw a pentagram so I drew a pentagram."

Mike let out a deep sigh. "That has six points, dumb-fuck... you drew a Star of David-- that's like, an octagram or something. A Pentagram has FOUR points."

"Isn't that a square?"

They never were able to resolve that question as to how they should draw the star so they just stuck with the six pointed star. Mike continued to lead the preparation but, since they had no candles they decided to stick with beer bottles, which they had in abundance all over the apartment floor. From there they figured out the best way to continue representing candles was to blow pot smoke over the star, and they went about doing that with a lot more enthusiasm than any other part of the ritual-- they did it three times, in fact.

Eventually it came time for the question, which Dave took the liberty of phrasing. "Oh great coyote, why are you so gay for the roadrunner?"

They two stoners may not have known it at the time but getting the ritual perfectly right wasn't as important as having a spirit close by and, as it so happened, there WAS a spirit close by. A spirit HAD heard their question because he was living in the apartment with them. He was a trickster too, so the response couldn't just be any old answer. It had to be special... and OH, it was special. On the other hand, the fact that the ritual WASN'T done right was pretty damn insulting to the spirit.

They'd 'sacrificed' beer, pizza, and smoke to the spirits but once they were done with their game they drank the beer and ate the pizza-- that's a major 'no no', just so you know. As anticipated, they got no response-- that night. The following morning was a different matter entirely, and when the answer came it came hard. At work. In the middle of a meeting. In front of everyone... but only Mike and Dave could see it, which made things that much more fucked up.

Mike and Dave worked at Columbia Fuel Company and they worked in the phone sales department for corporate accounts-- they were basically paid to have people either tell them "The decision maker isn't available right now." or to get the other side hang up. Sure, they had sales goals, but in general only one in ten folks in their department actually met their numbers-- and those were the two guys and the gal that've been there for over ten years and had dedicated customers. The Monday sales meeting was not the usual plan and that unscheduled sales planning meeting was even worse because Mike and Dave had both been up late smoking.

Waking up using coffee with a few drops of cannabis oil the two of them weren't really in the right frame of mind to listen to sales mentoring and new special promos, the guys were even more off their game thanks to an unexpected visitor. Their boss, Mr. Colson was in the middle of talking about 'transitioning statements' when a coyote walked in; he was a cartoon coyote; he was also naked. He was, in fact, VERY naked. He was also carrying one of the plushies from Mike's bedroom.

Dave stared, speaking aside to his room mate. "Hey... Mike... isn't that your--?"

Mr. Colson stopped his can speech to tell off Dave. "All questions can wait til the end, Dave. This is important stuff here."

Mike, who was also staring at the Coyote wasn't about to let the Spirit's presence go without saying something. "Mr. Colson, what about the--"

"It can wait until the end, Mike."

It didn't take long for them to realize that only they could see him. They exchanged a few glances to one another, and some knowing nods, and then tried their best to avoid freaking out in the middle of the meeting, which was pretty difficult with a naked cartoon Coyote parading around like he owned the place, holding a little road runner plush-- MIKE'S road runner plush. It only got worse when the Coyote held up a sign like in the cartoons. It read: YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT ME BEING GAY FOR THE ROAD RUNNER?

Mike and Dave looked at each other again then back to the Coyote, who had chosen a spot at the end of the table, just one seat down from Mike (two from Dave), and he plopped the plushie right down next to Nina, the 40-something lady who'd been with CFC forever. She continued taking notes and occasionally piping in about something-or-other having to do with increased sales to micro-clients east of Bend. Mike and Dave, however, were looking right at the Coyote, who was all grins as he took a single clawed finger and shoved it into the seam between the plushie's legs.

Mr. Colson walked THROUGH the Coyote just as the Spirit was pushing his finger into the plushie up to the second digit. "Which means what, Mike?"

Mike, who had been completely engrossed in the lewd display in front of him had no answer. He stumbled over his words a few times as the Coyote regained his attention by licking his digit, then sticking it right back into the hole he'd made, the other paw holding up another sign which read: I THINK DAVE OWES YOU AN OUNCE.

Eventually Mike managed to mumble out. "...uh... increase.... sales?"

The answer was good enough for Mr. Colson and he went back to talking with everyone. The Coyote kept right on with his own presentation. Both stoners sat in their seats, completely stunned as they watched the Spirit kneel down and begin to generously and vivaciously attack the newly created hole with his tongue. A free paw held up the earlier sign and spun it around. There was something else written on the back. HE LIKES IT.

Things only heated up more from there because, when the Coyote stood up, both Mike and Dave could clearly see that he was ready to perform... and there was a LOT of him available for the performance. Neither stoner made it through the meeting and, by the time the Coyote was done with his exhibition they were both done with their employment.